


A Matter of Sovereignty

by Kizmet



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 10:46:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1105890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kizmet/pseuds/Kizmet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A visiting prince takes it into his head to brutalize Merlin, but sometimes the solution to a problem is in how you phrase it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Matter of Sovereignty

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: “Merlin” is the property of Shine Television. I’m just borrowing for a little non-profit fun.

Merlin rounded a corner, Arthur’s lunch tray balanced on one hand, just as a man in chainmail stormed around the same corner going in the other direction. Merlin twisted desperately, trying both to make himself smaller and shield the tray.  
  
He wasn’t successful in avoiding the collision completely but a few hopping steps and the tray survived intact with the exception of a biscuit. Merlin was contemplating dusting the biscuit off and pretending it had never fallen or eating it himself and pretending it had never existed when a heavy blow to the back of his head knocked him to his knees. Arthur’s lunch spilled across the hallway floor.

“Apologize scum!” the man in armor demanded furiously. “How dare you touch me!”

Merlin rubbed the back of his head and stared at the mess that had been the Crown Prince’s lunch in dismay. “What was that for?” he exclaimed. Then he glanced up and added “Um... your Princeliness.”

Prince Rhys of Yarmouth’s already red face turned puce at Merlin’s failure to grovel for forgiveness. “You’ll learn your place!” the visiting Prince snarled as he drew his sword. He struck Merlin forcefully with the flat of the blade.

Merlin’s mouth gaped open in disbelief. He barely had time to throw up an arm to protect his head from the blows raining down on him.

 

* * *

 

“Sire, I’m reluctant to suggest it,” Sir Leon said humbly. “But you might want to consider _not_ trouncing Prince Rhys quite so soundly during any future ‘friendly’ spars... in the interest of diplomacy.”

Arthur laughed. “His ego needed a proper deflating. Either Yarmouth’s knights are completely incompetent or they’ve been letting that moron think he knows one end of a sword from the other. Either way, getting knocked down a few dozen pegs was for his own good.” Arthur grinned, “And I was only too happy to do the job. I’ve probably saved his insufferable life. Can you imagine Rhys in a real battle?”

A reluctant smile tugged at Leon’s lips as he refused to say anything derogatory about the foreign prince.

A pained scream shattered the lazy afternoon.

“Merlin,” Arthur exclaimed as he took off running. He charged up a set of stairs and saw Merlin on the ground, his raised arm covered in bleeding welts. Prince Rhys stood over the servant with a sword.

“Stop!” Arthur commanded. He stepped in and caught Rhys’ wrist before he could land another blow. Arthur dug his fingers into Rhys’ tendons and twisted until the other prince dropped his sword. Then Arthur knocked him roughly into the wall.

“This disrespectful lout shoved me,” Rhys exclaimed.

Arthur noted the spilled tray, took Merlin’s legendary clumsiness into account and translated ‘shoved’ into ‘unwittingly stumbled into’. Merlin curled around his injured arm, his breath coming in pained gasps. Arthur’s eyes blazed, his hand dropped to the hilt of his sword. “In Camelot we don’t beat people for clumsiness.”

“You’d threaten me over a servant?” Rhys snarled.

Behind Arthur, Merlin whimpered. Arthur’s expression darkened. “I’d beat you into the ground, for the second time today, for being a miserable excuse for a human being,” he stated coldly. “Get out of my sight.”

Rhys gave Arthur a hate-filled glare. But remembering his earlier defeat at the other prince’s hands, he retreated with his tail between his legs.

Arthur and Leon helped Merlin up once Rhys was gone. “Do you go looking for trouble?” Arthur asked his servant.

Merlin grimaced. “Why would I bother? The way it follows you around, it might as well be your shadow.”

“Are you blaming me, because you tripped over visiting royalty?” Arthur demanded.

Merlin grinned as if it say, ‘You said it, not me.’ but he couldn’t hide the amount of pain he was in behind banter.

“You’d best go to Gaius,” Leon interjected. “I wouldn’t be surprised if that arm’s broken, and even if it’s not it’s going to bruise to the bone.”

 

* * *

 

That night Arthur was sitting in his quarters not eating the dinner a servant who wasn’t Merlin had delivered when Morgana invited herself in with little more than a perfunctory knock.

“That loathsome toad won’t let this go, you know that don’t you?”she said in place of a greeting. “After you humiliated him sparring this morning he was just looking for an excuse to vent on someone.”

“He more than accomplished that,” Arthur muttered, his voice thick with disgust for the other prince. “Merlin’s arm was fractured in three places. It’ll be months before he can use it again.”

“And I’m glad you stopped Rhys before he killed Merlin,” Morgana said dismissively. “But he’s going to want payback for how you backed him down. Rhys is too much of a coward to try get even with you directly. He’ll go after Merlin again and Uther will throw Merlin to the wolves without a second thought rather than bother himself over a servant being abused.”

“What do you expect me to do about it?” Arthur demanded.

“Something!” Morgana exclaimed. “Merlin deserves better than to be sacrificed to salve the pride of some worthless excuse for a prince.” With that the Lady Morgana stormed out, angry at Rhys, Uther, Arthur and her own powerlessness.

Arthur sat up long into the night staring out his window and thinking.

 

* * *

 

The next morning it was no surprise when Prince Rhys demanded an audience with the King.

“One of Camelot’s servants has gravely insulted me,” Rhys declared pompously. “I demand redress.”

Uther looked bored. “Yes, yes,” he glanced toward the guards standing at the throne room doors. “Find out who it was and have them sent to the stocks for the day,” he ordered.

“Your majesty, that won’t be sufficient to satisfy me,” Rhys complained. “I’m told it was the Prince’s manservant, Merlin. I find it offensive and a poor reflection on Camelot that such an insolent oaf would hold such a position. I demand he be flogged.”

“Fine,” Uther said giving Rhys a flat, annoyed look. “King Hywel, we were discussing the use of Yarmouth’s harbor...”

“Father,” Arthur interrupted, using what Merlin liked to call his ‘prat’ voice. “I’m afraid we aren’t addressing the whole issue. Merlin is a servant, that is true, but more importantly he’s my servant. A member of my household, to discipline as I see fit.”

“And I am your king,” Uther warned, already annoyed by the entire subject of Merlin.

Arthur bowed his head respectfully. “Sire, would you allow a foreign king to dictate internal policy to even the smallest and weakest of Camelot’s villages?”

Uther’s ire cooled and he gestured for Arthur to continue.

“You would not,” Arthur answered his own question. “Because it would make Camelot appear weak.”

“As your initial ruling showed, Camelot’s policy is to use the stocks to correct disrespectful behavior by commoners. I found Prince Rhys beating Merlin for having bumped into him,” Arthur reported. “I put a stop to the beating and took it upon myself to punish Merlin appropriately. I understand customs may be different in Yarmouth and Merlin is just a servant, so I wasn’t going to make anything more of Prince Rhys’ uncalled for behavior.”

Rhys started to protest, only to garner a silencing look from Hywel.

Arthur turned to address the court as well as his father. “But Prince Rhys is, apparently, unwilling to respect Camelot’s customs, even while he is a guest in our castle.”

“How was I to know Camelot tolerates servants with no sense of their place?” Rhys snapped, ignoring his father.

“Father, you didn’t appoint Merlin to his position because of his manners, it was because he was enough of a fool to get between me and a vengeful witch,” Arthur reminded Uther and the court. “But that is beside the point, I’m not asking for leniency for Merlin because he saved my life. In fact what I’m asking has very little to do with Merlin at all. If Prince Rhys is given leave to dictate how I run my household while we are both princes, how can I expect him to respect my sovereignty over Camelot when we are both kings?” Arthur asked.

“Merlin is my servant, his life is mine. I declared that he was to report to the stocks; once the arm Prince Rhys broke heals; to be punished according to Camelot’s ways. It would be inhumane to expect him to stand in stocks given the condition Prince Rhys’ beating left him in.”

Arthur turned back to solely address Uther. “Father, I realize you were not aware that I had already addressed this matter. I apologize for not informing you, but I did not consider it worth the court’s time. However, if you overturn my ruling to satisfy Prince Rhys’ whim, it will undermine my authority in any future dealings with Yarmouth.”

Uther gave his son a faintly approving nod. “I am certain Prince Rhys only meant to share the best practices of his kingdom with Camelot,” Uther declared. “Similarly, I have always considered Yarmouth’s polices toward the Druids disturbingly generous. They will take advantage of your kindness, Hywel. But it is an internal matter for Yarmouth, and I haven’t allowed it to come between our two kingdoms.”

“A Druid healer saved my life, they are valued subjects,” Hywel said defensively. He shook his head. “But we’ve spent enough time discussing matters that are not of international import. Rhys, you’re dismissed.”

 

* * *

 

Arthur smugly watched as Merlin tried to make the Prince’s bed with only one working arm. “You should thank me.”

“For a day in the stocks to look forward to?” Merlin asked facetiously.

“It’ll be weeks before your splint comes off,” Arthur began lightly.

Merlin scowled at the reminder and for a moment Arthur looked apologetic, but he continued in the same tone as before. “By then Rhys will be long gone and everyone will have forgotten... Unless you keep whining about it, instead of praising my diplomatic brilliance.”

Merlin rolled his eyes as he turned back to his work, swatting ineffectually at the wrinkles in the heavy coverlet.

“Oh forget it, I’m just going to mess it up again when I go to bed,” Arthur ordered.

“Finally you see logic,” Merlin declared, tossing a last pillow vaguely in the area of the head of the bed.

Several minutes passed in a companionable silence.

“Thanks Arthur.”

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
